Fractured

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by Leanne Pearson


  My crushing grief had resulted in me viewing life through black and white lenses. Finding myself now appreciating the gentle caress of a breeze on my skin, the aroma of freshly mown lawn, the lingering scent of spring flowers, appreciating the marvels of nature and the mosaic of colours spread before me, I realise I have been slowly learning to see life in colour once more, learning the value of living for today.

  Something about this quaint little town captivates me. The air is cold but I feel warmth settle in my soul. It’s both cleansing, restorative, and a touch nostalgic. Hanmer reminds me so much of the many small mountain towns in the Drakensberg mountain range in my home country of South Africa. Just under two hours away from Christchurch itself, it feels like I am a world away.

  Our resort isn’t five star, but the combination of modern architecture, and the preservation of early settler heritage, gives it a timeless feel. Unpretentious, yet stylish. As the resort’s more economical options were twin-bed sharing, Sarah and I booked a bungalow each, Dominic and Chase in another, and the rest of the band have a few booked out between them. The interiors are sparsely furnished, but functional. The walls all painted white with soft olive-grey trims. The main attraction is the breathtaking view of the mountains from almost every window.

  After unpacking and orienting ourselves with the resort facilities, the guys were keen to have a late lunch at Off Side Tavern, a classy sports bar in the centre of town. It has the reputation of serving the best club sandwiches in the district I’m told.

  Smoothing a brush over my hair, and then pulling it back into a high ponytail, I cover my scar with concealer, give my face a quick dusting of powder, and a lipstick touch up. Giving myself a quick once over in the full-length mirror, I notice how I’ve filled out over the past few months. I no longer look so gaunt. My honey-blonde hair hangs in soft curls midway down my breasts, my pale green eyes vibrant against the smoky grey eye shadow and pale pink lipstick.

  I’m feeling stronger with each new day, and I cannot deny that the inner strength that I’m slowly starting to develop again is largely attributed to having Dominic in my life. This both scares me and fills me with, dare I say it, hope?

  “Lets do this,” I say to myself.

  At the tavern, we’re all seated around a cluster of tables. Travis and a few of the other guys had decided to skip on lunch and go for a long hike instead. Travis has always been a keen outdoorsman.

  Sarah and one of the guys are in a heated discussion over menu choices. Dominic is sitting with Chase and Andy at a table a few feet from us. I had yet to place my order, instead finding myself unable to pull my eyes away from Dominic who has his head thrown back in a deep belly laugh. Its rich sound makes my nerve endings tingle. Still smiling, his eyes suddenly burn into mine, effectively throwing gasoline onto the flames of passion smouldering deep within my core. I jump when someone places a hand on my shoulder.

  Travis.

  He looks from me to Dominic, and his face darkens.

  Dominic spears Travis with a look equally as scathing. I roll my eyes and wonder just how peaceful this trip is going to be with these two men sharing the same airspace. The upbeat, pleasant atmosphere evaporates the minute they lay eyes on one another.

  Travis’s eyes fall on Dominic’s exposed legs, and he throws the first verbal jab.

  “What happened to you, drop your razor in the dark or what?”

  That was a low blow. Travis knows Dom is a Marine. I hold my breath and keep my mouth shut although there’s plenty I’d like to say to Travis. I’ve not seen this nasty side to him very often over the years.

  Dominic glances down at his legs, shrugging nonchalantly. “This? Played a game of football with a grenade and lost.”

  Travis continues to look impassive.

  “Ain't you supposed to be out “trampin'” or whatever it is you people call hikin’ in this country?” Dominic counters.

  “Well, Yank, in case you hadn’t noticed, the weather isn’t looking too good,” Travis bites out.

  “I’m from the South so I ain’t no Yank.”

  “There a difference?” Travis volleys back.

  “Yeah. Google it, tool.”

  I suddenly lose my appetite along with the need to stay sitting here, feeling like a hen two aggressive roosters are churning up the soil over.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, you two! Are you friggin listening to yourselves? It’s like being back in high school.”

  They both cut their eyes to me, but are too far gone to the testosterone that has obviously flooded their brains, and derailed any rational thought processes. As I get up to leave, I hear Travis’s words to Dominic, “You could always try pissing a ring around her, you know, mark your turf southern style, so everyone knows she’s off limits. Thing is, the turf you’re on is my stamping ground, and it has been since college.”

  I stalk out of the pub before I hear Dominic’s response to that immature threat, head straight back to the unit, and ignore the phone calls from both men for the next hour. I sit on my bed, wallowing in anger. What are these men doing? Surely this can’t be just about me. Travis was never such a nasty prick. Why is he being one now? We don’t talk about it, but I know he misses Daniel terribly. Is that what Travis’s territorial posturing is with me? Misplaced affection?

  When Sarah decides an afternoon nap is in order, I make my way to the resort gym, intent on working off my frustrations from earlier. The gym is set up with all the necessary equipment for me to keep up with my usual routine. I’ve found a weight bench to start a set of tricep dips when Dominic enters the free weight section. He’s obviously been training for a while as sweat is beading on his skin and his vest is soaked. He lifts his vest to wipe his brow, exposing a tight six-pack. I feel a flush of heat spread over my skin, as my body immediately reacts to his perfectly honed body.

  I try to focus all my attention on my set, not once allowing my eyes to skid off to the right side of the weight room. But by the second set in, who am I kidding? My curiosity gets the better of me and I sneak a glance over to where he is training.

  My mouth goes dry as I watch him complete the last set of his arm routine, my eyes zeroing in on his bulging biceps as they contract and relax with each barbell curl, the exertion causing him to grunt. The visual and sound effects are extremely sexy.

  The earlier altercation between him and Travis still has me riled, but his sculpted physique has me distractedly staring at him, resulting in me being a second too late in pulling my eyes away before his slam into mine. He stares at me unapologetically for a beat before his mouth curls up into a sexy grin that is equal parts boyish and knowing. I suddenly feel so wound up and flustered, I doubt I could complete my workout even if I tried.

  What is this man doing to me?

  I decide to own the stare and try to appear unaffected.

  Snagging his sweat towel around his neck, his eyes rake over my body as he makes his way towards the stairs that lead down to the shower block. His arms are beautifully defined despite the mesh of ragged scars running up over his shoulder. Not wanting to be caught staring again, I look away quickly.

  “See ya later, darlin’,” he says as he passes me.

  Watching his retreating form, the way his sweat pants cling to the contours of his butt and hamstrings, I’m thinking that the back view is about as about as delicious looking as the front.

  Chapter 17

  TOO CLOSE TO THE FLAME

  ~ Kate ~

  The small pub is quaint; warm terracotta painted walls, wrought iron candelabras, and votive candles strategically placed along the wall create an ambience that is both rustic and cosy, with a medieval touch. The decor is eclectic. Dark wooden tables draped in vibrant cloth. Walking up to the bar, I place my order for a slippery nipple shooter and pull up a stool.

  “Bit early in the evening for a such a strong one, wouldn’t you say?” a voice rumbles to my left.

  You’ve got to be kidding me. Just sat my ass down and they appear out of now
here. What is it with me drawing out the bowels of the brewery each time I attempt to have a quiet drink or two?

  “I’m Ash,” he says, and my eyes are drawn to his yellowed teeth. “What name you answering to, darling?” I look him over, the smell of stale tobacco and sweat turning my stomach.

  “First name’s ‘Not’, last one is ‘Interested’.”

  “Oh, you wound me, sweetheart,” he says, angling his body towards mine, eyes raking over me, clearly unperturbed by my brush-off.

  “That’s bit heartless, don’t ya say?”

  “Not really considering that I’m rigged with an asshole detector that can spot one a mile off, so don’t bother wasting another minute of your time or mine. I’m not interested.” I know that was unnecessarily harsh but I seriously don’t have the energy to deal with guys like this.

  Feeling an arm slip around my right shoulder, I spin around and am instantly caught in the spell of aqua-blue eyes that can only belong to one man. His jaw is shadowed by light stubble that gives his chiseled face a rugged edge.

  “Dom,” I breathe out.

  “Takin’ a hint seems to be a bit of a challenge for you. Ash, was it?” he taunts, his deep husky voice dripping with that southern twang I find so appealing. “The lady is with me.”

  Ash makes some snarky comment, and a half-assed apology that is completely lost on me. I am no longer aware of anybody else in the room other than the man before me.

  “Considering that ninety percent of the patrons that were here a few minutes ago were all men, think it’s safe to say your caveman approach and big guns appear to have scared them all away. You’ll have to add bodyguard to your resume. Coming to my rescue is becoming a habit.” I smile up at him, clearly aware of the nervous edge to my voice.

  His returning grin is on full wattage and it steals the breath from my lungs. This man is becoming a health hazard. Bringing the small glass up to my lips, I slam it back, shuddering with the after burn.

  “So, what’s your poison of choice tonight?” he asks, glancing at my drink, a smirk tipping the corners of his mouth. Oh no, not going there.

  “No, let me guess” he says, holding up a finger, brows creased in a show of concentration.

  “A B-52?”

  “Nope.”

  With a smoulderingly sexy grin, and eyes dancing with mischief, he reaches for my empty glass. Dipping a finger into the frothy remains he brings it up to his mouth, tongue laving over the tip as he slowly licks off every drop, his eyes never leaving mine. My vision focuses on just his tongue and mouth. Throat dry, breathing accelerating, I am in desperate need of another drink.

  “Slippery nipple...good choice, darlin’. Bit tame though. Ever had a Screamin’ Orgasm?” he murmurs huskily.

  Something deep inside me clenches at his words, my mind wrapped around that last word.

  “Uh...what?”

  He chuckles softly, a sound I find incredibly sexy.

  “You have had one before, right?”

  “Um...yeah I have. Only once I think.” My voice sounds breathy as I mentally slap myself into remembering it is only drinks we’re discussing.

  Dom turns me towards him and my body instantly reacts to the nearness of him. “Let me buy you one.”

  Desire spreads through my veins as my eyes drop to his white T-shirt straining against the bulk of his chest. They then follow the network of veins that snake up over a deliciously sculpted, and defined bicep, which displays a tattoo of an eagle and an anchor - the symbol of the US Marine Corps. The words “Semper Fi,” curve around the base of the anchor.

  “I can remove my shirt if you’d like a closer inspection?” Dom’s voice intrudes into my visual journey and heated thoughts.

  Ground, swallow me up now.

  “W-what?” I stammer, feeling my face flush with mortification at being caught shamelessly ogling his body. Yet again.

  He takes my hand and places it around the lower edge of his hard bulging bicep, flexing and trapping my fingers between two mounds of muscle that could easily crack coconuts. At the contact with his skin, my breathing picks up and I hope like hell my reaction to him isn’t that obvious.

  “Showing me your muscles. What are you, fourteen, Dominic?

  He chuckles.

  I’m curious…what does Semper Fi mean?”

  His playful expression falters. “It means Always Faithful,” he replies. Relaxing the vice grip his bicep has on my fingers, he catches them in his hand, then brings them up to his mouth. I don’t think I’m breathing, or if I even can.

  With his warm mouth on my skin, those eyes piercing mine, I know my cheeks are on fire. I can feel the flush all over my skin as my body kicks into Hot Man Proximity Alert, and every sexually wired cell in my body reacts to having such a sinfully crafted body so close to mine.

  Shaking his head, chuckling to himself, eyes still trained on me, his lips twitch in amusement as he releases my hand to turn his back towards the counter. Leaning against it, the movement causes his muscles to flex and strain. I can’t move. Don’t want to. Those eyes. They are captivating, pulling me in like an ocean current. A woman could lose herself in them, drowning in their depths. My fingertips still tingle from having his lips and hot breath against them.

  Dom brings his mouth down to my ear.

  “Don’t sweat, sweetheart. For any one of those dirty thoughts you’re havin’ about me, I’m havin’ at least three of my own about you. Starting with those beautiful green eyes. They’re shadowed in sorrow, but they speak a language of their own. And right now, they’re communicatin’ to me that you want me as much as I want you.”

  I can’t speak. Don’t need to. My body has clearly betrayed me already.

  He is right.

  Scorching need for him wars internally with guilt, which is needling my conscience. Each brush of his skin against mine, each softly spoken word, it all breathes life into my vulnerable heart and makes my body hum with need.

  Pulling back slightly, his hooded gaze travels the length of me. “As for this delectable body, well, lets just say, sweetheart, that those thoughts are wicked as sin, but as a gentleman, I’ll keep them to myself for now.” His voice a rich timbre of seduction as it fans my face, carries with it the scent of mint and his musky cologne. My mouth is no longer dry. It is watering.

  This is wrong, very wrong. How can I be this acutely turned on by a man just eight months after Daniel’s death?

  He isn’t done. Inching closer, he drags his thumb across my slightly parted lips. “But I will tell you that these luscious lips that I’ve been cravin’ to taste for weeks now are killin’ me, darlin’. I’m hangin’ on by a thread here.”

  Pausing to take a deep breath, he asks, “Now, how about that Screamin’ Orgasm I promised you?”

  His words. Shit. I’m caught up in a vortex of need, want and desire. He has me losing coherent thought. His voice seduces me, his unique scent overpowers my senses, and the mere feather of a touch from him sets me alight. This isn’t just sexual tension, it’s an all-powerful sizzling passion which I’ve never experienced before, and it scares the crap out of me. I’m getting in way over my head. Frustrated, guilty, and confused by the ache of desire this man has stirred inside of me, I feel tearful and panicky, my emotions suddenly strung too tight.

  I can’t take anymore of this. It’s too intense. I need out of here.

  “No, Dominic, I don’t want a screaming orgasm from you or anything else!” I bite out.

  He reaches out to grab my arm.

  “Don’t touch me,” I yell, yanking my arm from within his grasp.

  Turning around to make my hasty exit, I run straight into Chase. Knowing he has obviously just overheard my parting words, this just adds humiliation to my emotional overload. Tears fall freely as I try to push past him. Chase grabs my shoulder. “Easy, Kate. What’s wrong?”

  “It’s n…nothing, Chase. Let me go.”

  I hear him call after me as I flee from the pub, running from my deepest fea
rs and unexpected desires, feeling powerless against the strength of this unyieldingly magnetic attraction I feel for Dominic.

  God, Danny. Why did you leave me? I’m running scared here. I can’t do this.

  Chapter 18

  BREACHING THE WALLS

  ~ Dominic ~

  “Shit.” Scrubbing my hands through my hair, I turn on my heel to go after Kate. Chase’s hand on my chest holds me back.

  “Let her be, Dell. Don’t mess with her head, man. No games. She’s not strong enough to handle it. What the fuck was that all about anyway?” Chase says, giving me a stern glare.

  “It wasn’t my intention to play mind games with her, man, so don’t give me your shit. I have no darn clue as to how to avoid the trip wires to her emotions that are all over the place still. She runs hot and cold. We were banterin’ over drinks. I made a joke and she freaked the fuck out, as you just witnessed.”

  “By the looks of things, I’d say that went deeper than just some small talk over drinks, bud. I’m not blind, Dell, I’ve seen the way you look at her. Don’t start something you have no intention of seeing through. She’s vulnerable and fragile, definitely not your regular one-night stand material, bro.”

  “You think I don’t know that, Chase? Look, I know you’re watchin’ out for her, that you two share a bond because of your brother and all, but trust me, man, when I say I have no intention to mess with her head, I am givin’ you my word.” I look him squarely in the eye.

  He crosses his arms over his chest, locking eyes with me. I see they’re conflicted.

  “What exactly are your intentions, Dell?”

  Raking my hands through my hair, I throw my hands up. “I’m walkin’ a fuckin’ tightrope with her, man. One day I think we’re makin’ progress, next she’s locked herself down. She’s gotten under my skin…so deep, and it scares the fuck outta me. I’m sorry, I get that this is awkward, but, Chase, I know she feels somethin’ for me too. She just refuses to admit it and hides from her feelings, drownin’ them in alcohol.”

 

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